Uncle George showed the document to me. It is so long and official-looking and there are so many names to it. ‘Eight hundred and thirty-three—almost every free settler in these parts. This is our strength,’ said my Uncle and his is the very first name.
‘That will fix Macarthur and his pack of wolves,’ he said.
‘Take care,’ said my Aunt. ‘You know how powerful he is.’
‘How arrogant, you mean,’ muttered my Uncle. ‘You know, young Davy,’ he leant forward over the table and pressed down with one finger to make his point. ‘You know what that contemptible man did? When this Governor—this upright, brave man Bligh—arrived, only a bit more than a year ago, that man Macarthur presented him with a petition of welcome on behalf of all the free settlers. On behalf of us!’ He slammed his fist down.
‘Him! Him who has done more to impoverish the average settler, to force down the price of that which we sell and up the price of that which we buy. Him, who with his cronies controls the accursed trade in Rum that keeps half the population drunk and the other half impoverished. He had the hide to present himself to the Governor on our behalf!’
I have never seen my Uncle so incensed.
‘Is he a tall man with black hair and dark eyes that glare through you as if he is in a rage?’ I asked. I was almost afraid to speak.
‘Why? Have you seen him?’ said my Uncle.
‘When I was waiting for you by the water’s edge last week. Such a man knocked me over as I stood watching the unloading.’
‘Aye,’ said my Uncle. ‘That would be him, all right. Counting the profits from his ill-spent activities. Knocked you down, did he? And you with that lame leg. Just his style. I wish I had been there.’
They are taking the petition to the Governor on New Year’s Day. Aunt Sarah says it is symbolic. A new year begins with a request for a new way of doing things. She says the Governor will look kindly on the document and this will result in a happy and prosperous year.
Georgie asked me today why I do not like the dog. I was quite short with him and said I did not want to talk about it. He looked upset but what else could I say?
Monday 28th December
I am to go with my Uncle to deliver the petition. I am to meet the Governor and be received at Government House. When my Uncle told me I wanted to say, ‘No—take Georgie,’ but my Uncle said I was old enough to know the world and how it worked. He said the Governor would be pleased to meet a new young settler. I held my tongue about my plans to return.
Ellen says that there are those who say this Governor has a temper more foul than any other Sea Captain that ever sailed a ship. Georgie overheard her when she said this and piped up, ‘If the Governor swears then it must be all right for us to swear too.’ He had fallen over early in the morning and blood had poured from his cut knee. ‘Damn,’ was what he had said and my Aunt had scolded him and said if she heard that language again he would get a whipping.
She says that there is no excuse for bad language, but that the Governor, by his actions, has shown himself a true friend of the settler. She says he is one of the greatest of all navigators, but she had no time to explain that.
Ellen is very fond of the dog—I cannot call it mine. Today she cut a juicy piece from the leg of mutton and gave it to me to give to him. I could not go near him and gave the meat to Georgie who looked at me strangely. Ellen is exasperated that I will not play with him and still have not named him. She keeps suggesting names—Towser and Rover are her favourites.
I plucked up courage today and asked Ellen if she thought I should ask my Uncle about the boy and girl I saw at Church—if I could ever see them again. She shook her head and said that convict or convict’s child made no difference. It was all the same to my Aunt and Uncle. She had heard him say that no convict would ever sit with him at his table and that the same would apply to their children and to his.
She cut me a thick piece of bread and slapped on it some of her newly made butter. It was delicious.
Tuesday 29th December
We weeded in the hot sun today. The dog chased the rooster and we laughed—until the rooster came towards me. I tried to run and my poor leg dragged on a root and I fell over with my nose in the lettuces. The dog sniffed my feet and I lay there, frozen, until Georgie pulled him away. Fortunately Uncle George and Aunt Sarah were nowhere to be seen. Jim was there and he laughed loudest of all. My nose hurts. Eliza said we should call the dog Chaser.
Wednesday 30th December
Parramatta, Mr Caley’s house
We are on the road again, so soon after coming this way. Tonight we are with Uncle George’s friend. He is to join us for the trip to Sydney Town. They are talking, as before, and I am in my place at the table. I am sure I will not sleep tonight for wonder at the thought of tomorrow.
Aunt Sarah and Ellen spent last night ironing my best suit of clothes. What would Mistress Pennington say if she knew that they were being worn to meet Governor Bligh? I remember that when she placed them in the chest she said, ‘You never know when you might be needing these. Your Uncle may take you into good company.’ Such company as the most important in the whole country—even if he is a champion swearer and curser.
My Aunt told me exactly as I must speak. I intend to say nothing. They talked of Governor Bligh in the same way that the Surgeon did, agreeing that although he was in many famous battles he is most famous for that long voyage in the South Seas.
I wrote earlier that I was fearful of many things in this place. Now I must add to my list—Governor Bligh.
Last night I heard my Aunt tucking the children into their bed at the far side of the room. She must have thought that I was asleep because she came across to where I lie, under the window, and she touched my head with her hand. I lay as still as I could and then she placed a kiss on my forehead. That was what my Mother used to do.
Friday 1st January, 1808
We are now in Sydney at the home of another friend of Uncle George—an artist, Mr Lewin. As I write I can smell his paints. I wish I could stay here with his pictures of birds and flowers and animals and not go to the home of the Governor.
Uncle George and his friends are discussing who shall speak with him. All are to go but not all will speak. I’m sure it will be my Uncle.
Why does New Year’s Day feel like the beginning of something clean and fresh, like unworn clothing or an orange waiting to be peeled? Last year I remember my Mother sat at breakfast and challenged my Father and me to make a resolution for the New Year. It is the only time I can remember her doing it but I cannot recall what we said. How could I have known where I would be when next the calendar rolled around?
What should I say for this year—Eighteen Hundred and Eight?
Shall I resolve to overcome my fear of the rooster? Shall I tell Georgie why being near the dog fills me with such dread? Shall I write in this log every day? And what of my desire to return to my native land?
Are these foolish thoughts when Uncle George and his friends are resolved to struggle for a mighty vision for this new land?
Later
My Uncle went at the head of our procession. I hurried along beside him, trying to keep up. Everyone was quiet and carried their heads high and with great dignity. People stared as we crossed the stream and went up the hill.
‘We have an appointment with the Governor,’ my Uncle said to the Soldier who stood guard at the gateway to Government House.
‘Remember, Davy,’ he said to me, ‘no word unless you are spoken to and then with great humility.’
The Soldier let us through and we went up the drive. It is truly the grandest house I have ever seen. I am sure that there are none grander, even in London where the King lives.
We heard the Governor before we saw him. His boots sounded on the brick floor and I trembled at the memory of Captain Morgan. Bligh was striding through the hall, speaking loudly to someone whom we could not see.
‘I will not speak with him,’ was what he said and there was
the sound of a fist thumping hard against some object. For a moment I was afraid the Governor meant my Uncle but he came to the door himself and shook each man by the hand and welcomed us warmly.
He even shook me by the hand although I must confess my trembling continued. Seeing him, his chest puffed out like a pigeon and his shiny buttons and dark blue coat, brought the image of Captain Morgan even more to my mind. Are all ships’ Captains so?
‘Your son, Mr Suttor?’ he said.
‘No,’ replied my Uncle. ‘David is my nephew, newly arrived. His Parents have passed away and so he has come to start a new life and I am proud that it is to be with us.’
‘A new young settler, eh?’ the Governor said and I nodded. To my Uncle he added, ‘That is what we need. More young settlers. Not so many of these damned, arrogant big fellows.’
They talked for a long time and I sat on a chair near the window and ate small cakes with orange rind and another sharp flavour that Mrs Putland, the Governor’s Daughter, gave me.
There was real glass in the windows. I could hear the convicts in the garden and I could see right down to the water. On the wall there were paintings of ships that the Governor has commanded. One was a picture of the fierce Battle of Camperdown, and I wanted to study it more closely but I was afraid to leave my seat. Finally I could resist no longer and as the men were talking in a very close group, I left my chair and went to peer more closely at the detailed drawing.
I was counting the ships in the Battle when I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned to see the Governor beside me.
‘So, are you interested in great moments of History, boy?’ he said.
‘Yes, Sir.’ Could he hear my heart thumping and my voice quavering?
‘But that was not the most difficult and dangerous time of my career,’ he said. ‘The Waters of the South demanded more than the North Sea ever did.’
I did not know how to reply and so said nothing and he turned back to my Uncle and his companions.
When we left, the Governor shook each man’s hand again and mine. ‘It is so good to deal with such excellent, sensible farming men,’ he said, ‘and not those who care only for making money.’
I wondered who he meant and as we walked through the gates my Uncle spoke with Mr Caley. ‘He is open to our cause. He detests Macarthur and his lot as much as we do.’
Saturday 2nd January
What a fine, happy evening we had. We dined at the home of Mr Lewin and I sat up till very late listening as my Uncle and the others talked of their meeting with the Governor, of their plans for the future of this colony as a place where men can work hard and become successful in ways they cannot back home in England.
‘You are lucky, lad,’ said Mr Lewin. ‘Here there will be ways a boy like you can make your way and have a good life, far better than you would ever imagine back there.’
I had drunk a glass of wine with my slices of roast pork and sitting there, surrounded by smiling faces and with his beautiful paintings shining on the walls, I thought that if he was right then maybe I should gradually forget my attachment to my former home. I should throw my lot in with my cousins and all others who are born here. The wine made me forget my fear, and I fell asleep smiling—I believe, for the first time in this strange place.
Monday 4th January
It did not last. As we rode and walked the narrow road to Parramatta I felt my fear of convicts, Indians and all manner of other dangers return. Branches reaching across the track cast weird shadows and I imagined strange people and creatures were hiding, waiting for us. My fear increased when the innkeeper at the halfway house spoke of a party who had gone through two days before, only to be held up by Moran, the escaped man from the Hawkesbury settlement. He had a musket and had taken all the possessions of one poor man, newly arrived.
Wednesday 6th January
It has been so quiet since our trip to Sydney Town. I have spent the time with William and Thomas and Georgie in the garden. It has been so hot and we must use every drop of water for the vegetables and the fruit trees.
I know it is important that we grow our food, but I would rather be a shepherd. Then at least I could stand beneath one of the huge trees alongside the track to Parramatta and watch my charges from the shade.
When I asked my Uncle if that were possible he said he preferred Jim to take that job as there were still some cases of Indians killing the sheep although not as often as in days gone by.
Aunt Sarah makes us wear the hats she fashions from the cabbage tree palms and, although I feel like I am wearing a great umbrella on my head, I am still so hot and I am sure I am as red in the face as the other boys are. Their hair is almost white from the sun.
Uncle George has told me that tomorrow I can go with him to report on the meeting with the Governor. Many who signed the petition are coming to hear how it was received.
Ellen tried to interest the boys in naming the dog but they came up with silly ideas like Fatface and Curly-tail and then the heat got to them and they went inside.
Despite being nameless, this bundle of dog has energy and it leaps upon the children when we are in the garden. It must sense my feelings for it never tries to jump on me.
Thursday 7th January
What a fiery meeting was had! There were almost a hundred men present and many of the women and the children came along too.
Uncle George and Mr Caley spoke first. They told everyone how Governor Bligh had received us and how he had listened to our requests for Trial by a Jury of the People, and for changes to the Shipping Regulations. They reported his comments on those who exploited their fellow settlers for their own financial interest, and many cheered when my Uncle said the Governor seemed particularly to detest John Macarthur.
There was a great commotion when one man called from the back of the room, ‘But what will he do about it?’ This man strode to the front and faced Uncle George and the others and spoke with great force, waving his fist around and speaking sometimes to them and sometimes to those of us seated on the grass in front of him.
‘This Governor is just like the rest of them,’ he shouted. ‘Every Governor has tried and every one of them has failed. The Rum still flows and we know where the money goes. Bligh will be lily-livered and weak in the face of those who are rich and have influence back in London. Nothing will come of our petition here. We need men of our own to match Macarthur. Men who can get back to London and get the ear of fancy politicians, Lord What’s-’is-name and Duke Someone-or-other, just the way Macarthur does.’
‘Hear, hear,’ called a voice from the back.
‘And I suppose you are the one to do it?’ called another, in a sneering tone.
‘I may not have had the education of some of you. I may have arrived in this land in chains, but you all know that it were not for thieving, or for forging, or for arson or indeed for any crime against a person or a property but for fighting for my Country’s liberty. And that is what we are doing here,’ said the man. ‘I do not have those fine connections but we must find those who do.’
There was more yelling and shouting and I felt quite dizzy and the heat was making my eyes hurt. I pushed my way back through the crowd and found a stump to sit on and rested my head on my hand.
‘And what is the matter with you?’ a voice said behind me. It was the girl from Christmas Day. She dropped onto the ground beside me and didn’t wait for an answer, which was all right by me because I had none to give her.
‘Is he not grand,’ she went on.
‘Who?’ I said. There was no-one near us and I had no idea who she meant.
‘My Dad, of course. That is him out the front, telling everyone what should happen. Daniel O’Farrell.’
Her Father. The convict. I did not know what to say. I have never been so close to a girl before. Back home when my Mother and Father were ill and Dr Sampson came to visit, he told me he had a Daughter my age but I never saw her. I know there were girls at the school run by the woman next door to the Church bu
t I was not allowed there. I only saw them at morning service and then there were rows of other people in between.
‘I hear you went and saw the Governor,’ she said and I nodded. ‘Tell me, is he as loud and rude and frightening as they say? My Mum says he is the best swearer and curser in the whole of the British Navy and my Dad says that that is really saying something. Did he swear while you were there? Did you actually speak to him? What was Government House like inside? I have only seen it from the gate when we went to Sydney Town last year. Were you frightened of him?’
I could not keep up with all the questions. I do not know if I was meant to. Did she want me to answer? Her eyes are a deep blue-green and she has got these black curls that bounce out from under her bonnet while she is talking. I could not take my eyes off her.
‘My Mum says he is the greatest sailor of the age, even though he is an Englishman and not a patch on Saint Brendan, but I do bet you were scared a little.’
She stopped then and although I had been determined not to admit my fear, I found myself nodding my head and saying, ‘Yes, a little.’
‘I would not have been,’ she said. ‘It must have been grand.’ She stopped for a moment then, as if she was thinking some serious thought, but maybe it was only to draw breath. ‘If I had been there, I would have told him a thing or two. I would have told him how that scoundrel and his henchmen have made the Donlans and the McCanns sign their land over to them because after the blight got into their wheat they could not sell it for very much. They could not pay the money they owed and now they all have to leave and go back to Sydney Town. Maybe there is no work there and their little ones will end up in the orphan school. Mrs Donlan says her heart is breaking. And she is not the only one.’
The Rum Rebellion Page 3